No Matter What
by LoveTheBoyWithTheBread
Summary: "Love is a scary thing...it helps people who are going mad cling onto their last tiny semblance of sanity. That is what my love for Finnick is doing for me; keeping me sane." Finnick/Annie


**A/N-This is my first Finnick/Annie story, and I have to admit, I really enjoyed it. After writing this, I am kind of angry with Finnick for being so unfaithful to Annie, even if she is mad. This is set a few weeks after Annie's Hunger Games, back in District 4.**

**Disclaimer-There are a few tiny song lyrics in there, and that's from the song _Even If _by Zoegirl. Neither The Hunger Games, nor any of the characters appearing in this fic, are mine.**

**Enjoy :)!  
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N**ot that I hadn't thought about it before, but thinking about it now was different. I wasn't me anymore, and that meant I couldn't want the same things that the old Annie wanted. Which meant I couldn't want Finnick, even if he still wanted me. Everything else had changed, so why hadn't this? Why did I still get the same feeling in my chest and stomach,-and let's face it, everywhere else-when he touched me? I was on fire and I was drowning. Drowning, like everyone else had in the Games.

**O**nly not me. I survived, because I was from District 4 and I could take it. Even if I had already lost my mind at that point, because my district partner-whose name has been wiped from my memory like nearly everything else-had already been beheaded. At the hands of a child whom I killed. Not an innocent, but it was still terrible.

**M**urderer. That's what I am now. And perhaps Finnick Odair is a murderer too, and maybe he'll still love me for me even if I've done terrible things. Even if I'm famous and wanted by people who don't know me. Even if I'm not as rich or as beautiful as the Capitol people who want Finnick. Even if he could have a taste of nearly every woman he could possibly ever imagine wanting. Yet he still loves me, and I can see it by the look in his eyes as he rests his hand on my cheek and leans in towards my face.

"**A**nnie," he whispers, and it's like a thousand caresses. But I pull back, because that's not my name anymore. Well, by all rights it is still my name. But I am no longer Annie. He looks at me with hurt in his face, and his eyes ask me what's wrong, but I can't take it. I'm shaking in my skin, and I pull back and stand up, getting off of my bed and as far away from him as I can. I push my head against the wall on one side of a corner, and start sobbing into the plaster.

**T**he pain is more than I can take. The pain of wanting him when I know that he is Annie's, and I am no longer her. I don't feel like her, and I don't even want to be her. I don't want Finnick to love the woman I used to be, when that isn't me. Most of all, I don't want to love him. I don't want to _want _to curl up with him on my bed and lose myself in his golden eyes. But I do. I want to, and I want to lie there with him and let him hold me and fall asleep in his arms. I want him to take the dreams away and give me the first real rest I've had for months, ever since the axe and the flood and the loss of myself.

**T**his time, when he puts his arms around me, I don't resist. I want to. I want to pull away and run from the room and go walk straight into the ocean and never come out. To drown in there, just like I should have back in the arena, like all of the other children. But I don't do that. Instead, I turn my head towards him and without hesitation, push my lips against his. For a moment, I am lost in the kiss, but then it becomes too much for my shattered brain to take and I pull back.

"**E**ven if you aren't ready yet, it'll be okay, Annie. I'll wait forever for you if I have to." He says it, and he's so sincere that I can hardly breathe. That's what is making this so hard. His ability to accept me the way I am, even if I'm not Annie, but still thinking of me as that girl that he fell in love with before he was ever even reaped. I'm not that girl anymore. He doesn't understand that, but he's trying.

"**R**ed sky in the morning," I mutter, and he looks at me with concern on his face. No matter how real my thoughts are, I can't put them into correct sentences. They come out garbled, or worse, nonsense. I can think perfectly fine. But I can't speak right anymore. Phrases that are jammed in my memory just pop out whenever my mouth opens to speak. It doesn't matter that I'm not thinking of them at the moment, they find a way to make themselves known.

"**W**hat?" Finnick asks, a little surprised. But he doesn't push me away, and maybe that's why I still love him. Instead of treating me like I'm mad, he pulls me closer to him, brushing his lips against my head and hugging me like it's his last chance. I remember the last time he hugged me this hard. That _was_ his last chance, because it was the last time he ever hugged Annie.

"**H**appy birthday," I say with a smile against his chest. It's not his birthday, but I think the feeling is conveyed through the tone of my voice. I still love him, and maybe that's all I'm trying to say. That even if I'm not Annie, whoever I am still loves him.

"**A**nnie, it's not my birthday." He pulls back a little, but just to look me in the face. He smiles at me.

**T**hen he kisses me again. And it's the kind of kiss that you can feel from the top of your head all the way down through your toes. I melt into him, and for a few seconds I can't breathe as my lips smash into his. It's better than anything I've ever experienced before. And it doesn't matter if I am Annie or not, all that matters in this moment is the fact that his lips are pressed against mine. I don't even think about death.

"**I** love you," I say, and I am surprised at myself. I actually managed to verbalize the thoughts and emotions that were in my head. Maybe it was because I remembered him saying it to me so many times in the past, that it was stuck there, never to be forgotten, even if I did forget myself. The fact that Finnick loves me will never change. I may not still be the Annie he loved, but I am still the girl that he loves.

**W**alking me away from the corner and towards my bed, a broad smile reaches across his lips. He sits down on my mattress, then scoots himself up so that his back is leaning against my pillow. He pulls me up after him, sitting me on his lap the way he used to. I wrap my arms around his neck reflexively and he whispers those same words into my ear, planting light kisses on every inch of skin that his lips have to pass by in the process.

**I**n a few short minutes, I am drowsy from my lack of sleep recently. Every time I close my eyes I am plagued by nightmares and images that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Not only of my Games, but of Finnick's. Watching his Games was worse than living through my own. Every single moment, I was sure that he would be killed. I was sure that I would never see him again. I was sure that we would never get the future together that he had always promised me, ever since we were kids. And now we won't, because Finnick and Annie have no future together. Annie died in those Games. But maybe, just maybe, Finnick and I can live happily ever after.

**L**eaning against his chest, I breathe in the scent of him. It's salty from the ocean, and something else that I am unable to identify. It's always been there, really. Even when we were kids, he's always smelt like him, whatever that is. I close my eyes, and for once, I don't see death and water and blood and axes. I see Finnick's smiling face, looking for all the world like he has eyes only for me. And it's not Annie that he is looking at in my mind, it's me.

"**L**ullaby, and goodnight," I murmur. He kisses my hair again. I wish he would sing to me. He's never sang to me before. That seems like something that lovers would do for each other, doesn't it? I guess neither of us would really know. I've never even imagined being with anyone other than Finnick, and he's always had eyes only for me up to this point. If we were ever married, I'm sure we could have something really special. But I don't know if I'll ever get married. I might try to say "I do" and end up saying "Cast the net!" or something like that. I guess that would still make some sense though, in a way. At least to everyone in District 4.

**A**fter what seems like hours of just lying here against his chest, he shakes me awake. No nightmares. I hadn't even realized I was asleep, but I must have been. "Time to go, sleepy head," he says to me quietly, kissing me on the nose. I feel like a little girl again. I'm only 16, which is young, but after what I've been though, I'll never feel truly young again. I feel older than anyone, more burdened by the weight of the world. But not with Finnick. He makes me feel so...alive.

"**L**et's go," he says when I don't get up, nudging me softly. I climb off of his lap and plant my feet firmly on the floor. Everything sways. He grabs me by the waist and pulls me in for a long kiss before setting me free. My hand wraps around his and he leads me through the halls, down the stairs, and outside.

**W**e are going to a sort of dinner party. It's in my honor, and it has been delayed for weeks now as I've slowly transitioned back from my catatonic post-Games self into something other. Not the Annie from before the Games, but no longer the girl from directly after. It's at Finnick's house, with his family and a few of our friends from back before he was reaped, back when we still had friends, instead of just fans. My family isn't here, because they don't understand me. They never understood Annie, either, so I guess I'm not surprised.

"**A**nnie!" Yells someone from inside. I make an effort to smile at them, but don't even go as far as deciphering who called my old name. There is clapping, lots of it. It's thunderous, the applause coming from the roomful of people. I take it in stride, trying to act a little more sane than I really am. Finnick's had squeezes tightly against mine, reassuring me that everything will be okay.

"**Y**ou don't have to do this yet, you know," Finnick breathes into my ear. I force a grimace his way, and he laughs at me. I nod my head, because I know that if I try to say something, it won't come out right.

**S**lowly, the evening rolls by. I don't pay attention to anything anyone says. Every once in a while I am forced to nod in someone's direction, or smile at them. When a question requires more than a yes or no answer, Finnick explains for me, and I have to keep sending him grateful smiles. I still cringe every time someone says my name, every time anyone other than Finnick touches me.

**L**ove is a scary thing. It makes monsters out of kittens, and kittens out of monsters. And apparently, it helps people who are going mad cling onto their last tiny semblance of sanity. That is what my love for Finnick is doing for me; keeping me sane. At least, a little bit of me. The part of me that will always love him, and the part of me that he will always love. In other words, the important part.

**O**scitantly, my head falls onto Finnick's shoulders. The hustle and bustle of the evening has died down, and people are quietly talking by candlelight. No one is paying any attention to us anymore. They are discreetly giving the lovers some privacy. Finnick takes the opportunity to pull me drowsily to my feet. We walk right out the back door, and our toes are in the sand. It's so beautiful near the ocean, and I inhale the scent of saltwater and sea air as Finnick nonchalantly plays with my hair.

**V**aguely, I realize that he is saying something to me. I focus all of my waning attention on the words he is whispering into my ear.

"_**E**__ven if the stars fell like rain, even if tomorrow never came_..." He doesn't get the chance to finish what he's saying, because I realize, with a jolt, that he is singing to me. Didn't I silently ask for just this not but a few hours ago? I pull him into a hug that surprises him into silence. Only for a moment, though, and then he kisses me. Every time he kisses me, I seem to forget all of my troubles and just fall into him. Into his very being, his very soul. It's like nothing anyone has ever experienced, and I want every single part of him to myself, always and forever. Even if nothing else can ever be right.

**Y**es, I think to myself, I will always love you. It doesn't matter who I am-Annie or otherwise-you will always be a part of me. My Finnick. My entire world. He helped me survive before the Games, he helped me survive during the Games, and now he is helping me survive after the Games.

"**O**nly problem is," he mumbles into my hair once we pull away from the kiss, "you aren't Annie anymore." I look at him in shock for a moment, because even though I keep telling myself I am no longer Annie, I have never spoken these words aloud, and I have no idea how he saw through me so quickly. My eyes begin to fill with tears, as I think that maybe he won't want me anymore if I'm not Annie, and he realizes it.

"**U**nderstand this, though, girl who isn't Annie," he says seriously, but with a small smile. His hand finds my chin and tilts it up so I can look at him. I see the stars swirling around his head in the background, and then every fiber of my being focuses in on his eyes. "No matter what, I will always love you."

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**A/N-I hope you liked it! Please tell me what you think :).**

**If you hadn't noticed this (which I thought I made it quite obvious with the bold letters and all) the first letter from each paragraph spells out the last sentence of the fic.**

**Please review.**

**Thanks!**

**-Mel  
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